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Pretending (Free verse) by temptalia

surrounded by reminders of the past, dancing and flowing feet swept away into the sweetest rapture effortlessly syncopated with catalepsy, timed movements against taut strings which play into a history of unwelcome symbolism the tenderness uninvited, but still embraced hands sliding into place, firmly planted, not yet demanding as orchestrated melodies submerge an empty hall, leaving us isolated as lovers long to be, to nurse their stimulation and indulge passion instead, faint signs of a displeasing aftertaste lingers in the air; kindly killing and blissfully beautiful bodies sway, contours matching and interlocking puzzle pieces fading and blurring into singularity eyes downcast, poignant avoidance tightening its hold causing distressing closeness--touching and caressing forcefully renewing buried, matchless agony separating, mingling and forgetting only to be drawn into the inevitability: the seducing pull of lust and love the mind subduing, as the heart constricts; succumbing to internal desires repulsed and entranced by knowing fingertips that promise the most delightful delivering of self-destruction continuing instinctively--mindlessly--living with well-thought words and well-placed phrases that give us hollow detachment slaves to visions of characters we detest playing never slipping on an ill-made facade, which becomes practiced and rehearsed fantasies that breed beads of hope, with reality waiting with sharpened talons, to shred attempted dreams conceding finally, a harsh forbiddance compels us to lay like the dead, flesh tingling by old shadows that fight against the jest we so avidly entrust our souls to maintaining sultry teasing and pleasant humor which keeps us moving--pretending and forgiving ourselves for the most unthinkable deceit: restricting and conforming to unspoken restraints that bind us with skillful manipulations festering beneath the lies we dutifully dust away as we resume our rightful spots as dancing fools directed by the righteousness of mind that has conquered heart and soul.

temptalia 23-Aug-02/7:52 PM
God's Wife - I'd like to say I appreciated your criticism, however, I felt that there was little constructive criticism within what you said. Poetry does not have a "formula", it is a way to express yourself however you choose to do so--whether it's long and wordy or concise. You'd do better to forget judging others' work using rules that dictate length as well as style.

On another note, I've had about 200-300 people read this work, and those who chose to comment enjoyed it.




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